


it takes a thousand broken miracles

by CurlzForMetal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Miracles, S11 spoilers, faith - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 14:32:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8920738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CurlzForMetal/pseuds/CurlzForMetal
Summary: Dean used to think Castiel was a miracle.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for FB prompt Miracle Monday. Beta'd by Beta D, who when selecting their letter, was like 'it stands for dICK'. They're pretty cool, though I would've said Destiel, aha.

Dean used to think that Cas was a miracle, in so many ways.

 

First, he felt it in the way his world turned over in that barn, useless sigils etched onto the walls and hopelessness etched onto his heart. His world turned over with the simple existence of Castiel, the wings flowing from his back like oil. 

 

Dean felt it again and again, every single time Cas saved him, lit someone up from the inside out just for Dean. He knew it in the way Cas looked at him, bringing it back to that barn again, and the words,  _ you don't think you deserve to be saved _ . 

 

Slowly, Dean found it in himself, the way he looked at Cas. Dean can taste it in Castiel's mouth in their first kiss, taste it like warm sunlight drenched him, lighting him up from the inside out, but in a completely different way. He could taste it on his skin after that damn trenchcoat is finally gone. 

 

Slowly, Cas started to prove him wrong, show Dean that he wasn't a miracle.

 

It was in the way Cas said  _ put the kryptonite away _ and the way he looked, face outlined in fire and betrayal, even though he's the one who did the betraying. The broken faith is there when Dean has to sleep alone, how he fills himself up with plastic instead of sunlight, because that was how Cas tasted, and it was gone, leaving Dean both empty and cold. 

 

That broken image of miracles lives in Cas’ peeling face and black veins and drowned trenchcoat, it's there in the way Dean prays every night and never gets an answer. It was there in a women's red hair and  _ we're married  _ and the hole straight through Dean's chest. 

 

It showed up in  _ pull my finger  _ and the following exploding light, it was there when Cas raved about honey and bees and it feel even further apart when Cas replied  _ always happy to bleed for the Winchesters.  _

 

Dean tries to put it together again in Purgatory, tries to restore that broken faith by searching and pulling and whatever he'd built is dropped like a hot coal and dispersed like snow when Cas is left behind. 

 

All semblance of miracles and faith and any sense of belief is broken by the time Cas beats him in that tomb. It seems to tighten like a string when clarity finally comes back to Cas’ eyes, making them the blue that Dean remembers from so many years ago, completely free of control and insanity, or the flickering of holy fire.

 

But before Dean can tell Cas about this small miracle, he's gone.

 

It burns back to life when he finds Cas, human and bleeding and  _ alive _ but it's snuffed out by his own words  _ you can't stay _ because no matter what, Dean has always put Sam first, and Dean thought to himself,  _ there's no faith even that.  _

 

It's broken when Kevin dies, eyes burnt out, lit up, but in the wrong way, it's scattered like ash in the wind when Dean's eyes turn black, it's clumped together like mud when Cas’ eyes are blue and Dean's are green once more. 

 

Dean builds from that mud, makes it into bricks and tries to block out faith and miracles and it almost works, but there's Cas’ bloody face staring at him in the mirror and wrecked hotel rooms and the Mark glaring out at him. 

 

Dean wants to fix it, wants to break that wall down and actually build it into something worth looking at, but he can't see the faint remains of sunlight scattered by watery ash. He only sees red, and then black, because it's almost the only thing in him anymore - demon eyes and the Darkness.

 

Cas is still here, and Dean has him again, has him here, and the Darkness is out there, waiting and  hungry. Dean would like to deny his own hunger but he can't, but Cas is here, staring up at him and Dean wants faith and miracles again.

He used to pray for just one, just one miracle every night. He was never asking for something specific, just something good. 

He finds it in the simultaneous thump of his shirt and Cas’ trenchcoat, licks it from the hollow of the angel's hip, hears it in broken pants and shaky moans. He can feel it in the hands that brush through his hair, gentle and forgiving and Dean finds so many miracles he can't breathe. 

It's good, the type of good that paints his mind white with light, because that's all he's ever going to need. He's hungry for something brighter now, something he wants for himself, and Cas is that good thing that Dean  _wants_ and he knows that Cas wants him and that's what finally makes the mud into something that doesn't block everything else out. 

He breathes out his newly born faith into Castiel's hair and then his mouth, pushes it into the body beneath him, trying to write over all his broken walls, write over his shattered faith and make himself believe in magic - the good kind - again.  _ faith faith faith.  _ It's burning and he realises it's his eyes and he's crying and he feels his faith becoming strong again with every pass of Cas’ hand through Dean's hair. He feels it when Cas flips them over and rides him, a thousand suns lighting up with the movement and Dean groans out his full name when he comes -  _ Castiel.  _

 

It takes tasting Cas’ own tears mixing with his when they kiss, salt decorating the inside of their mouths, for Dean to realise that Castiel himself was never the miracle and neither was Dean's healing.

  
Their love, their shared tears and the hot breaths between them was always the miracle. 


End file.
